


back to the beginning

by caramelle



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Post-Canon, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 23:14:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11300823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caramelle/pseuds/caramelle
Summary: It's fuckingconfusing.Theyfoundeach other. They're all together again. Clarke and Bellamy, theyhaveeach other now, literally right there.Shouldn't Clarke behappy?Or, the one where the delinquents return to Earth, and things between Clarke and Bellamy aren't going the way Raven expects them to.





	back to the beginning

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to the the reunion fic literally no one asked for!
> 
> nah for real tho i don't write canon much but this idea just hit me a couple days ago and i wanted to see what a fic of it would look like so i thought hey why not. 
> 
> enjoy =)
> 
> (title from 'Genesis' by Dua Lipa)

 

 

 

 

 

 

The actual reunion itself is sort of a blur.

 

Everything just happens so _fast._ One minute, there's nothing but endless, indistinguishable patches of green, green, and more green, accented with the unfamiliar sensation of humidity clinging to skin and uneven clods of earth beneath their boots.

 

The next minute, there are voices, and gasps, and shouts, and laughter, and before anyone can blink through their dropped jaws and rapidly welling-up eyes, Bellamy's arms are full of _her._

 

She's different, Raven notes when Clarke finally pulls away and turns to hug Monty, tear tracks gleaming on her cheeks. It's not just her hair, too, that one streak of berry pink glowing through the mass of blonde. It's not just her physical frame, either, the generous curves more toned than ever before.

 

It's something about her that's _changed,_ something irrevocable and irreversible.

 

Then again, they all are.

 

For the next twenty-four hours after that, there's far too much to celebrate to get started on any _real_ work. Raven can't say she minds that much — Clarke's pseudo-herbal version of moonshine is definitely nowhere near Jasper and Monty's, but it does the trick _without_ making you feel like you're pouring actual gasoline down your throat. She could definitely get used to Madi, too, the little girl practically gluing herself to Raven's side as she fires off question after question about rocket science and aerodynamics and a thousand other words Raven would never have expected from the mouth of a _grounder._

 

(Also, Madi seems to have a habit of jumping up to fetch refills without being asked, so. That's a definite plus in her favour.)

 

Clarke is, surprisingly, a lot more like the blonde firecracker Raven recalls in the recesses of her memory bank than she would have expected, the images and sounds buried deep but rising steadily and surely to the surface with every passing minute they spend together. Her humour is as sharp and dry as ever, her voice perhaps the slightest touch deeper than before, her eyes bright and blue in the light of the small makeshift stove-fire she and Madi have got going in the middle of what used to be the living room of Becca's mansion.

 

And as for Bellamy — well, Raven's all too sure of how much _he's_ changed over the years. He's a little quieter, a little more reserved now, but _steadier._ Solid, even more so than before. He thinks before he speaks now, visibly weighing the words in his head before he says them. He smiles a lot less, but Raven thinks maybe they all do.

 

But _Clarke and Bellamy._ The two of them, _together._

 

Raven knows nostalgia is just a concept, an intangible _thing_ people talk about and feel in their hearts. All the same, she feels like she's watching nostalgia itself play out before her very eyes, in real life, in real time.

 

They're so… so _normal._ They're back to their silent communication shit like nothing's changed, exchanging soft glances and knowing looks, having entire conversations without ever saying one word. They fill in each other's sentences almost automatically, never too fast that it's jarring, never too slow that it leaves awkward beats.

 

They even _move_ in sync, turning their heads towards whoever's speaking, dissolving into light chuckles _at the exact same time._

 

There is, however, one _slight_ difference.

 

Clarke and Bellamy have always been more comfortable with each other than anyone else, but emotional closeness aside, Raven's pretty sure they've never been this… _physical._

 

All throughout the rest of the day and into the night, Clarke and Bellamy are side by side, their arms brushing against each other's so often that Raven's half expecting patches in both their jacket sleeves by the time dinner's done. They never stray more than a couple of feet from each other, covertly tracking each other's movements with alert eyes whenever they do have to separate. Even so, it's never for more than a couple minutes at a time, each of them quickly returning to the other's side with nonchalant haste, reaching out to touch each other's shoulders or elbows with light fingers as if to say _'I'm here'._

 

They'd always been close, but this? This is _close._

 

It's like six years of separation has turned them into _magnets,_ drawing them over and over again into each other's space and compelling them to stay there.

 

Truth be told, Raven fully expects them to spend the night together, wrapped up in each other's arms.

 

It's a small surprise when she walks into the main room to find them already up, Bellamy's brows furrowed in earnest concentration as Clarke walks him through the process of brewing her take on coffee. (Pretty much everything has to be improvised, and, all things considered, Raven's finding herself considerably impressed with how much Clarke's managed to achieve during her time on Earth.)

 

After a few moments, Monty appears at Raven's shoulder, both of them hovering in the doorway as they watch their two former leaders whisper quietly to each other

 

"They slept a few hours," he says, his voice low. "Saw them when I got up to take a leak in the middle of the night. Curled up on the floor, with the fire between them."

 

So. Bellamy hadn't gone to Clarke's room. Clarke hadn't given him a separate room of his own, either.

 

Raven shakes her head, adopts a loose expression. "Good," she says, as she and Monty start towards the other two.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The first order of business is getting everyone reacquainted with Earth. Praimfaya had killed off basically everything, but new plants and things were already well on the way to growing back in thick blankets, turning everything rich brown and lush green again — in Clarke's little kingdom of a territory, at least

 

"Everything out there is mostly dead," she explains as they stand on the line separating green and blackened grey, looking out on the endless horizon of barren land that had yet to renew itself. "But the green is spreading every day. There's more than enough to feed all nine of us, but we should work on bolstering up my stores." She shoots a soft glance at Bellamy, letting her shoulder graze his. "Wasn't really expecting visitors."

 

He smiles down at her. "We'll have to earn our keep, then."

 

A gentle breeze sweeps towards them, warm and weighty. Harper stretches a hand out towards it, like she's trying to touch it.

 

"Wind," she says dazedly, fingers hovering in midair before her. "Real _wind._ "

 

Echo mutters a quiet exclamation of something in Trigedasleng, and Murphy tugs Emori into his side, both of them laughing helplessly.

 

Madi shoots a questioning look at Clarke. It's more incredulous than amused, and it makes the blonde snicker gently.

 

"They'll get used to it again soon enough," she tells the little girl, her gaze flicking back to Bellamy's.

 

"Yeah, kid," Bellamy says, grinning at Madi, the nightblood glancing between him and Clarke. "Give us some time."

 

Whatever it is that flashes across Clarke's face, it passes so quick that Raven half-thinks she might have _imagined_ it, double-taking for a closer look.

 

But the blonde is already turning away, leading the group back the way they came.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It's another full day before Raven notices it.

 

After lunch, Madi leads Harper, Murphy, Emori, and Echo off on a gathering mission. In the meantime, Clarke and Bellamy sit down with Raven and Monty to assess the tech resources — or rather, the lack thereof.

 

Raven immediately shakes her head when Clarke suggests going back to the rocket. "Our pod thrusters were pretty much fried on entry. The hull was basically blown apart, too. We can _try_ to salvage bits and pieces, but honestly? Not gonna do much good."

 

"We have to get to that bunker," Bellamy decides, exchanging a glance with Clarke. She nods, her gaze lingering on his face, even as he turns back to Raven and Monty. "Can you rig up something with whatever Clarke has here?"

 

"We can take a look," Monty says with a nod. "Maybe some kind of leverage system to manage the weight of the rubble."

 

Clarke smiles. "Whatever it is, you two will figure it out."

 

She pulls out a neatly labelled map from the small pile spread out on the table before them. It's an aerial view of the half-destroyed lab, marking out the land within a half-mile radius around it.

 

"We can set you up here," she says, pointing a spot just off the southern corner of the lab. "It's not much space-wise, but it's well-sheltered, so you won't have to worry about rainwater leaking in."

 

Next to her, Bellamy squints down at the map. "Might be a bit of a fire hazard, though. Maybe we should think about somewhere further _away_ from our food storage," he says dryly, resting his hands on his hips. "You know, where all our _food_ is stored?"

 

Clarke sniggers softly, bumping her shoulder into his. "Like _you_ did any work for it."

 

"I just _got_ here!" Bellamy protests, wearing a smile wider than anything Raven's seen on him in years. "I'll contribute. Give me some time to catch up."

 

It's only by some lucky coincidence that Raven even spots it — the shadow that crosses over Clarke's face, the slight crease of her forehead, the tightening in her jaw.

 

It passes as soon as it appears, the blonde's features smoothing out into a neutral smile before Raven can even blink.

 

"Let's talk usable lab equipment," Clarke announces, producing a thin, hand-crafted notebook out of thin air. "I have an inventory list right here..."

 

 

* * *

 

 

Ever since ALIE, it's rare that Raven gets to enjoy one full night of solid, uninterrupted sleep. She almost always jolts awake at least once or twice throughout the night. Whenever that happens, she usually lies in bed, doing aeroelasticity equations in her head until she drops back off to sleep.

 

But on this particular night, she's feeling a little restless.

 

Leaving her jacket on the table it's draped over, she pads towards the door. They're well on the way to summer, and while she's grateful for the fresh warmth of Earth, it's still a lot to get used to after twenty-four cumulative years in the dead cold of space.

 

She's not too sure where she's heading, walking down the hallway without any particular destination in mind, but she ends up back in the living room, where they'd all been gathered mere hours ago, talking and laughing over steaming bowls of rabbit stew.

 

The fire is still going, crackling gently in the middle of the room. It's not hard to make out the two figures curled up on either side of it, each half-hidden under a thin blanket.

 

_Jesus,_ Raven thinks, resisting the urge to shake her head. She just doesn't _get_ it. Why don't they just go to Clarke's room? Where there's a _bed_ instead of a hard floor, and _proper pillows_ instead of rolled up jackets? It's not like anyone's been even _remotely_ expecting them to bunk _separately._

 

Raven can't see Bellamy's face with the direction he's curled up in, but she can see the outline of his shoulders easily enough in the dim light of the fire.

 

In their seven years of friendship, she's only ever seen him actually _sleeping_ a handful of times. Nevertheless, he seems more relaxed than she can remember ever seeing him, awake or asleep _._ When they first got to the ground, he tended to sleep all _rigid,_ posture always a little hunched, keeping his gun within arm's reach like he was always half-expecting the alarms to go off at any minute. Back on the Ark, he slept more like the dead, every part of him _sagged_ inwards. Like he'd always given in to sleep, surrendering to it as a defeated foe rather than welcoming it willingly as a friend.

 

Now, he just looks… _comfortable._ It's a strange look on him.

 

Strange in the _unfamiliar_ sense, that is. Strange… but not unwelcome.

 

It's _Clarke_ that she can't quite understand.

 

The expression on the sleeping blonde's face definitely counts as _strange._ As in, peculiar.

 

There's that same crease to her forehead, the same tension in her jaw. Her frame is soft, as it usually is in sleep, but her expression alone would make anyone think she were currently attempting her own set of aeroelasticity problems.

 

It's fucking _confusing._ They _found_ each other. They're all together again. Clarke and Bellamy, they _have_ each other now, literally _right there._

 

Shouldn't Clarke be _happy?_

 

_Don't get it,_ Raven concludes quietly as she turns away to head back to her own room. _Just... don't get it._

 

 

* * *

 

 

The next day, they get started on clearing out the space designated to become Raven and Monty's new workroom.

 

After a meal that no one's quite sure is supposed to be breakfast or lunch, given the lateness of the hour, Monty leads Murphy and Emori off to help move various bits of furniture around. (Earlier in the morning, Echo had claimed one of Clarke's maps before setting out to do a sweep of her own. Raven thinks she probably just wants some time to herself. She hadn't quite taken to life in space the way Emori had.)

 

In the meantime, Bellamy decides to head out hunting with Madi and Harper.

 

"Gotta get a move on with those food stores, right," he jokes, selecting a knife from Clarke's small arsenal.

 

Clarke smiles, but there's a faint tension to it. "That one's a little too serrated. I usually use it for skinning, or if I need a cleaner cut on something hard." She moves over to him, picking up a second knife. "This one's better for flesh. Smoother incision."

 

Bellamy grimaces good-naturedly, palming the knife carefully as she hands it to him. "Guess you _can_ forget your Earth Skills stuff." He grins at her, grabbing a coil of rope to sling around his shoulder. "Good thing I've got an expert to help me out."

 

From where Raven's standing, she can't see Clarke's face — but the set of her shoulders drops ever so slightly, almost as if in relief.

 

"You have a gun, Bellamy," the blonde reminds him, her dry tone making it easy for Raven to picture the quirk of her lips without actually looking at her face. "Use that if you want."

 

"Or don't," Raven pipes up, flashing a wicked grin when they both turn to look at her. "You know, unless you _want_ to be breaking your teeth on bullet fragments for the next few meals."

 

Bellamy rolls his eyes and Clarke shakes her head, the memory of the dead panther resurfacing to everyone's minds at the same time.

 

"It wasn't even _me_ who shot that thing," he grumbles, glancing sheepishly at Clarke as he picks up a small compass and starts out of the room. "And Myles' tooth was only _chipped_!"

 

 

* * *

 

 

"Here's the rest of it," Clarke announces as she walks in, the small box in her arms rattling with every step she takes. "It's a completely jumbled up mess, but everything's still in pretty good condition."

 

Raven looks up from the box of scrap metal she's sorting through as Clarke sets the small box down, screws of all different sizes clattering around lightly. "That's cool, I'll make it work. Thanks."

 

"No problem." Clarke steps back, and takes a look around at the workroom. It's rapidly taking shape, thanks to Murphy and Emori's help with clearing the clutter out under Monty's supervision. Their voices carry from the next room where they're all busy sorting through the various bits of furniture and objects, separating them into piles for everyone to divide up when they return from hunting. Raven hasn't been paying close attention, but it sounds like they've been jostling over the same fucking armchair for the last fifteen minutes now. She's half-tempted to stick her head in there and yell at Murphy and Emori to _'just stick to fucking on your BED, you psychos!'_

 

"Maybe we should bring that storage cupboard back in," Clarke muses, still peering around the room with her hands on her hips. "Is it okay to leave everything out in the open like this?"

 

Raven waves a dismissive hand. "It's easier to be able to see everything that we have. For now, at least." She shrugs, smirking crookedly. "I'll let you know when Monty's OCD kicks in."

 

Clarke huffs a fond laugh, resting her hands on her hips. "Okay, well, is there anything else I can get you?"

 

"Oh, yeah." Raven tosses aside a uselessly warped piece of metal and looks up at the blonde. "Maybe you could get me an explanation for why you're acting all weird?"

 

Clarke pauses, the expression on her face frozen in place. "What?"

 

Raven rolls her eyes, pushing back from the large box of scrap. "Come on, Clarke. Let's not do that whole 'I don't know what you're talking about' shtick. We're not teenagers anymore. We're supposed to be all older and wiser and shit." She pauses. "Well, _older,_ at least."

 

Clarke hesitates, hovering motionlessly for a long beat.

 

Suddenly, she sighs, moving forward to brace her hands on the table Raven's working at. "I thought I was hiding it."

 

"You were," Raven says, one brow raised. "Jesus, Clarke, have you forgotten who the fuck you're talking to? I'm the _youngest_ zero-g mechanic—"

 

"In fifty-two years," Clarke finishes with a wry smile. "Make that fifty-nine now."

 

Raven shrugs, glancing Clarke out of the corner of her eye. "I don't know. Emori just might be catching up."

 

Clarke's brows shoot up in surprise. "Emori? Really?"

 

Raven nods, grinning. "She's definitely still learning, but she was hell of a lot more helpful than _Murphy_ was up on the Ark. Smarter, too."

 

Clarke absorbs the information, nodding to herself. "Grounders in space," she mutters, almost under her breath. Noticing Raven's questioning frown, she shrugs. "Just… it's an oxymoron." She flaps a hand hastily as if to shoo the conversation along, her cheeks flushing warm pink. "Never mind."

 

Raven flicks her ponytail over her shoulder, already moving on with another roll of her eyes. "Look, I don't know if something _happened_ between you two, but—"

 

Clarke's already shaking her head. "No, nothing happened." She blinks, frowning slightly. "Nothing like _that,_ at least."

 

Raven turns to face her, raising a brow. "Well, then, what's the hold-up? We've been back three whole days. You guys should have, like, five babies by now."

 

" _Five_ —"

 

Raven clicks her tongue impatiently. "You get my point. Why are you being all — I don't know — emotionally constipated, or whatever." She pauses, her eyes narrowing.

 

Clarke glances up at her, shoulders tensing. "I guess—" She shifts her weight from one foot to the other. "I just want him to— I don't know. I guess I just don't want to rush it."

 

Raven likes to think that after twenty-five years of living a _very_ eventful life, nothing really fazes her anymore.

 

But at this, her jaw drops. Actually _drops._

 

"Rush it?" she echoes after a long pause, one palm braced against the table. " _Rush it_?"

 

Clarke sighs, crossing her arms over her middle. "I know it sounds weird—"

 

" _Weird_?!" Raven leans forward, staring incredulously. "Dude. It's been _seven fucking years._ _Trust_ me, Clarke. This _definitely_ doesn't fall under the 'moving too fast' category."

 

"That's not—" Raven watches in bewilderment as Clarke throws her hands in the air, and begins to pace the workroom frustratedly. "I _know_ it's been seven years, Raven. The thing is, I've spent _six_ of those years _here._ Away from Be— from you guys. _Waiting_ for you. And he— you've all spent six years thinking I'm _dead._ " She whirls around to face Raven, her expression stark. " _Dead,_ Raven! Not lost. Not missing. Not trapped under eight feet of rubble in a nuclear bunker stocked with food and water. _Dead._ "

 

She stops, drawing a sharp breath of air. She blows it back out again, her shoulders sagging with the exhalation. "He's spent six years moving on, Raven. I can't— I can't just expect him to turn back around from _that._ "

 

Silence echoes throughout the room.

 

"Shit," Raven says quietly, leaning back. "I mean… _fuck._ That's some heavy shit."

 

Clarke scoffs almost reflexively, dropping into a stool to bury her face in her hands. "If that's meant to be a play on 'emotional constipation'—"

 

"Ew, _no._ " Raven perches carefully on the stool on her side of the table, leaning forward. "Okay, look. You have a point, all right? I wasn't really thinking about that part. I mean, well, it's _weird,_ yeah. We thought about you so much. We literally owe you our _lives,_ Clarke. Plus, we just flat out missed you." She smiles at the surprised expression on Clarke's face. "Hey, we had our problems, but we were always a fuckin' _family._ Right?"

 

Clarke laughs, the sound watery. "Right."

 

Raven grins, satisfied with the blonde's response. "So, yeah, it's _weird._ I'm not gonna say the last six years _didn't_ happen… but maybe we need to focus on what's _happening._ " She shrugs. "Sure, we were all hurting over losing you. I probably don't need to tell you, but Bellamy was _way_ more torn up than any of us. But, shit, Clarke. Do you have any idea how goddamn _happy_ he is to have you back? To see you again, to _talk_ to you again? To do that stupid power couple side-by-side walking thing you guys do _all_ the damn time? Yes, you do," she adds, before the blonde can open her mouth. "It's _really_ fuckin' dramatic. You're lucky we all love you."

 

Clarke takes a shaky breath, her mouth taut. "So, what? I just… act normal?"

 

Raven scoffs. " _Hell_ no. If you guys 'act normal' for another seven years, we're never getting any babies." She smiles to smooth over the joke, resting an elbow on the table. " Look, all I'm saying is… let's leave the past in the _past._ Focus on what's happening _now._ What you want." She pauses deliberately."Maybe try actually _saying_ how you feel for once. You know, instead of what you think you _have_ to say."

 

Clarke nods slowly, brows furrowing in thought.

 

After a beat, she looks up.

 

"Do we really do that, uh, power walking—"

 

" _Yes,_ " Raven exclaims, exasperated.

 

 

* * *

 

 

"Boar's skinned," Bellamy says as he walks into the workroom, hands still glistening from the water used to wash them off. "Madi and Murphy are getting a start on dinner, while Harper and Emori wrap up the rest of the meat for storage. How's it going in here?"

 

Raven looks up, pointedly ignoring Clarke's wary glance. "Would be better without you cluttering up our space," she says cheerily. Next to her, Monty sniggers.

 

"Very funny," Bellamy says dryly, coming up next to Clarke as if wanting to look over the various bits and pieces spread over the table, his arm brushing against hers.

 

Raven makes a big show of returning to her work, whistling to herself as she and Monty continue to work on their designs for a digging machine.

 

Clarke clears her throat, and a small scraping sound echoes through the room as the blonde pushes off her stool. "Hey, uh — do you wanna take a drive? I could show you this freshwater spring Madi and I found a few months back."

 

Raven can't see Bellamy's face, but a quick glance at Monty's shows that whatever his reaction is, it's gotta be good.

 

"Yeah," Bellamy says. Raven's gotta give him credit — he sounds a lot less surprised than she's expecting. "Yeah, okay. Sure." He pauses, glancing awkwardly at the other two occupants in the room. "You guys don't, uh, need any help, do you?"

 

Raven scoffs loudly then, swivelling her head around to level an unamused look at him. " _Please_ tell me you're joking."

 

"We're fine," Monty pipes up with an innocent smile. "You guys go. Have fun."

 

Clarke doesn't so much as glance at Raven as she nods at Bellamy, both of them turning to head out of the room.

 

_Attagirl,_ Raven says silently, exchanging a grin with Monty before bending back over their work.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Nobody sleeps out in the main room that night.

 

Unfortunately, it sounds like nobody's sleeping in Clarke and Bellamy's room, either.

 

Raven growls in frustration, ripping her pillow off her face to spring upright in bed.

 

"Hey!" she yells, pounding on the wall with a fist. "I'm _really_ fuckin' happy for you guys, but, full disclosure, I'm literally going to fucking murder you both if you don't _keep it the fuck down._ "

 

There's a sharp thud on the other side of the wall, followed by muffled whispering.

 

"Sorry!" two voices call back a moment later.

 

Raven rolls her eyes, flopping back down with an exasperated sigh.

 

_Note to self,_ she thinks resignedly. _Fuck the digger. Make headphones first._

 

**Author's Note:**

> thoughts? feelings?
> 
> i've got [tumblr](http://mellamymake.tumblr.com) for that


End file.
